


Baltimore

by itsaquinnquinnsituation



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:01:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsaquinnquinnsituation/pseuds/itsaquinnquinnsituation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“No – and Louis, what with all the time that we’ve been together, I should probably be now asking you if you’ll marry me and finally - just move in with me, but instead – instead I think I’ll have to ask you to release me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baltimore

**Author's Note:**

> The characters, real or based off real people, do not belong to me. I am not making money off my work. This is for entertainment purposes only and is completely fictional.
> 
> This is my universe and exactly how I see it. I believe that writing should be enjoyed not judged. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy. I just felt like doing it, is all.

“Harry, it’s just that… you know how…”

“Ok, don’t” – Harry got off the arm of the couch and raised his hands, then placed his left one on his forehead and rubbed it forcefully, - “Don’t, because I know what you are going to say.”

“It’s just that… I mean, there are other things we can do together tomorrow, like…”

“No” – Harry looked towards the window and lowered his left hand to the back of his neck, giving it a squeeze.

“Well, you know that I don’t go to rallies. So why do you ask?” – Louis got off the couch as well, placing his hand gently on the ornamented upholstery. The light in the small room was dim, making muted beige and brown colours a vibrant orangish-yellow.

“I ask, Louis…” – Harry’s voice broke and he restarted, - “I ask because I cannot let go of the hope that one of these days you would at least consider it.”

“I am” – Louis sighed and moved in an arch around Harry, - “I am not the type to go to rallies, and…” – he hesitated, biting his lips and eyeing his conversation partner out of the corner of his eyes, - “And honestly, Harry, if you *really* thought about what’s good for you, for both of us, you wouldn’t either and….”

“No” – Harry ripped his hand away from his neck and slapped it on his hip, - “The thing is, I am, Louis, I wouldn’t do anything unless I believed – strongly believed that it’s the right thing to do… and we’ve had this conversation before, so I don’t know why…”

“And I don’t know why you continue to ask me to come with you!” – Louis eyed the sleepy street through the window, - “You know, you *are* lucky to live in this area and you *are lucky* that all you get is some broken windows and a vandalized door once in awhile, but I - *I* could lose everything. Starting with my job. But that’s the least of my worries. I could get killed. You could get killed. We could…”

“…get killed, yes, Louis, I heard you. It’s 1974, not the middle ages. I seem to be still alive.”

“You’re only alive because you live on this block. I don’t know what you pay these mobsters to protect you...”

“Peanuts.”

“What?” – Louis turned to him.

“Peanuts. I pay them with peanuts. I get them for free at work. And sunflower seeds and other snacks like that. Ha” – Harry chuckled and rubbed his neck again, - “And they pay me with beer. We exchange our payments at Luigi’s on Friday evenings before I go out to meet up with you. God, Louis” – He turned and exhaled roughly – “It’s called being friends. Or neighbours. Little Italy is like that.”

“Christ.”

“And I’m not even Italian.”

Louis wiped his hand over his face:

“Listen, it’s just – I understand that this is something you strongly believe in. I believe in it too, only I keep it to myself. There’s no need to place our lives in danger if our opinion is not going to make any difference. I…”

“No” – Harry faced him squarely, eyes wide open, - “Here’s where you’re wrong. Our opinions will only not make any difference if we keep silent! And you keep saying – what’s best for me – but what *is* best for me? I feel best about myself when I know that what I’m doing will make the world a better place. And it may not happen now, it may not happen in ten years, but I don’t want some other Harry and Louis, some fourty-fifty years from now, to have to be the way that we’re now!”

“They won’t even know you, you realize, they won’t…”

“And I don’t care” – Harry glared, - “That is the least of my concerns. Louis, I’m not just enamored with an idea and I don’t seek to be some sort of a martyr but we the people are just that – a whole composed of individuals. We make the society. Every one of us *does* make a difference. And – I can’t guarantee you that any time, in our lifetime, we would be able to see gay men and women getting married here in Maryland, but I *can* guarantee you that it will not happen if people like me and you sit back and accept what we get!”

“I know..” – Louis sighed out.

“No, you don’t” – Harry cut him off, roaming around the room, - “You obviously don’t. And not just… uh” – he stopped, - “Not even for yourself, Louis, because obviously you’d rather pretend to be wasted to shreds every time we go out, just so I can put my arm around you and pretend to be helping you home – noone’s the wiser if I stayed the night, and listening to the neighbours going at it full throttle while I clamp my hand over your mouth because the walls are paper-thin… I just…”

“Harry, please.”

“No – and Louis, what with all the time that we’ve been together, I should probably be now asking you if you’ll marry me and finally - just move in with me, but instead – instead I think I’ll have to ask you to release me.”

“Harry, no…”

“And this one – I would not do it for the world. I’d do it because I’m tired of being a hypocrite... Urging the world to fight for our rights while I’m keeping my own relationship in the closet.”

“Harry…”

“Please, go.”

He shut up and fell into an arm chair. A round metal table lamp made the side of his face and the hand that he was attempting to bury it in glow in yellow light. Louis stood with his mouth open, not breathing. In a couple of minutes, he left.

The outside met him with light cool breeze. It blew small leaves at his feet and dried his unblinking eyes. The air smelled of bread, clean laundry and home, and the multitude of Italian flags played on the background of the clear black sky. He barely noticed faceless decrepit buildings as he walked past them. He got used to this area of Baltimore over the years and every tree, every bump in the sidewalk was familiar to tears…

________________

 

The next morning welcomed Harry back from sleep with cold raindrops wetting his pillow through an open window. He grumbled and wiped his face, burroughing deeper into the blankets. It smelled like autumn has finally reached this lovely city. He climbed out of his bed in some hour-and-a half and examined his puffy face and red eyes in his bathroom mirror. He proceeded into the small kitchen with scuffed up linoleum and put a kettle on. Nesting on the taburette, he noticed the wall clock that informed him that it was already past noon. Absent-mindedly, he walked back into the living room and turned on the telly. 

The news hour was on and a pretty young reporter with long dirty-blond hair was informing the viewers about a gay rights rally, live from Washington, DC. Harry winced and folded his legs under himself on the sofa. Young men and women, many in colourful clothes with big signs were chanting on the National Mall. They walked in an uneven bunch, the middle of the crowd almost unmoving and suddenly, Harry’s eyes came to rest on one face, one that was more than familiar. The young man stood still, small and shivering, eyes open wide and darting wildly through the crowd. In his hands, he clenched a gigantic sign, a big piece of cardboard nailed to a thin wooden plank. On it, three words written unevenly in black paint stood out; and even if Harry closed his eyes just then, he would not be able to stop seeing them on the back of his eyelids. 

It said, simply: “Yes, I Will.”


End file.
